


everything he ever wanted

by a_gay_poster



Category: Naruto
Genre: Fake Dating, Implied Kankuro/Kiba, Implied Neji/Tenten, M/M, POV Alternating, Prompt Fill, Rated T for Sai, cast of thousands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 20:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18225143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_gay_poster/pseuds/a_gay_poster
Summary: Prompt: "gaalee with a fake dating turning into real dating prompt?"Kankuro makes an incredibly stupid bet. Gaara asks Lee for a favor. How can Lee say no?





	everything he ever wanted

**Author's Note:**

> This is wholly unedited, sorry in advance. Also this got completely out of my control.

Many of Kankuro’s worst (and best) ideas begin the same way: a drinking game with Kiba.

They started out with the standard fare - balancing stacks of kunai, loser drinks; table tennis contest, loser drinks; face painting contest judged by Kiba’s intimidatingly hot sister, loser drinks. Then things escalated: karaoke contest, loser drinks; handstand contest, loser drinks (and throws up, if you’re Kankuro); wrestling contest, loser drinks. 

Kankuro is four drinks ahead and lying on what he assumes is a dog bed (although, to be fair, most things in the Inuzuka household are technically dog beds). He’s face down so he doesn’t have to see the way Kiba’s chest is flushed beneath his flimsy mail shirt, jacket long-discarded. 

Kiba rolls over and sits up from where he’s been pillowed on Akamaru’s belly. His shoulders ripple; Kankuro studiously ignores them. 

“Passin’ out on me already?” Kiba says, stretching his arms over his head so his abdomen goes taut. “Guess that’s about what I’d expect from a Suna weakling.”

“Don’t talk shit about Suna,” Kankuro slurs. “Like you have room to talk. Konoha brat.”

“Aww, c’mon,” Kiba laughs. “Even you have to admit Konoha is the stronger village.”

Kankuro flops over and meets Kiba’s sharp eyes, flushing with what is probably anger.

“You take that back,” he says, pointing vaguely in Kiba’s direction. 

“No way! Listen, our village has more people- “

“Mostly civilians,” Kankuro grumbles.

“- more shinobi- “

“They all suck.”

“And our Hokage is definitely stronger than your Kazekage.”

Kankuro reels upright in shock.

“Gaara’s strong as hell!” he shouts. “He’d kick your stupid Hokage’s ass!”

Kiba throws his head back and laughs. There’s a rough patch of unshaven stubble on his throat. Kankuro reminds himself that it’s very uncool to lean over and lick a bro. 

“Okay, okay, so maybe they’re equally matched in strength, but you gotta know Kakashi-sensei is way cooler,” Kiba drawls.

Kankuro, who has stood behind Gaara’s chair during many meetings, and has seen Kakashi pretend to read his weird romance novels upside-down on more than one occasion, raises a painted eyebrow. 

“Cool? Have you _seen_ him, he’s like- “ Kankuro pauses - he isn’t supposed to disclose anything that transpires during the closed-door Kage meetings. He rolls his eyes. “Man, fuck you, Gaara’s cool.”

“Cold, maybe,” Kiba shoots back. “At least Kakashi could probably get a date.”

Kankuro finds this hard to believe, picturing the time he saw Kakashi try to take a sip of tea through his mask and slop it all over his Kage robes, but he bites his tongue.

“That just proves you don’t know shit about Gaara,” he says instead.

“I mean, I’m open to being proved wrong,” Kiba says, spreading his arms expansively, “but the only people I ever see him hangin’ around - other than you an’ Temari - are Naruto and Lee. And we all know what Naruto’s whole -” Kiba pauses, blanches. “- _situation_ is.”

That’s when Kankuro gets an idea. A wonderful, horrible idea. 

He looks at Kiba, eyebrows raised meaningfully. At least, he assumes they’re raised meaningfully. The alcohol fog has spread up to his face and he can no longer feel anything above his nose. 

Kiba furrows his eyebrows. His nose wrinkles. It’s so fucking cute that Kankuro wants to throw up. He probably also wants to throw up for other reasons, but he can tackle that later.

“You’re not tryin’a tell me that Gaara … and Rock Lee …?” Kiba leans forward intently, hands clenched on his knees. His breath smells like wet dog and booze. Probably tastes like it, too, but Kankuro isn’t about to find that out, because he has impeccable self-control. 

Kiba, as it later turns out, does _not_ have impeccable self-control.

* * *

“You want me to do _what_?!” 

Lee is cornered in his tiny kitchenette, Gaara’s imploring eyes boring holes into him. 

“Pretend that you’re dating me for the night of Shino’s birthday party. For Kankuro’s bet.” Gaara pauses. “Did you injure one of your ears?”

“I- Wh- How- “ Lee stammers, his face growing hot. 

Gaara steps in closer. One of the things that Lee has discovered about Gaara over the years is that he doesn’t seem to have any understanding of personal space, nor any concept that Lee might have some of his own. Lee supposes it’s related to Gaara’s shaky grasp on social customs overall, although he hasn’t ever witnessed him being quite so intrusive with, say, Naruto. 

Gaara cups Lee’s cheek, stroking his cheekbone with a thumb. Lee closes his eyes against the utter overwhelmingness of the gesture, unable to divert his mind from fixating on other contexts in which this gesture might be experienced. 

“You don’t have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to,” Gaara says lowly. “I will go tell Kankuro that he has to own up to his foolish lie.”

 _This might be the closest you ever get,_ whispers Lee’s reckless heart. _Take it, or you might never have the chance again._

“I’ll do it,” Lee says.

* * *

They sit side-by-side on the floor at Lee’s low-slung coffee table, poring over a list in Gaara’s sloppy, narrow handwriting. 

“Temari helped me come up with questions that people might ask us. We’ll need to prepare answers for plausible deniability,” Gaara explains. He’s pressed fully against Lee, thigh-to-thigh, shoulder-to-shoulder. Another of his casual intimacies. 

“Temari’s in on this, too?” Lee blurts.

“Reluctantly, but yes. As the person I know with the most experience in relationships, she was the obvious choice to help.” Gaara drags one thin finger down the wrinkled paper to the first item. “Let’s start here. ‘How did you two meet?’” Gaara pauses a moment, considering. “Well that’s simple enough. I tried to kill you.”

The blood drains from Lee’s face.

“That’s not very romantic,” he says. Gaara’s arm is warm against his, the jut of his shoulder digging into Lee’s bicep. It’s a struggle not to lean against him fully. 

“It’s factual,” Gaara replies. 

“Well, I don’t think anyone is going to ask us that,” Lee demurs. “Everyone at the party will be people who know us, after all.” Lee scans the page. “How about this one: ‘How did you two get together?’”

Gaara rests a finger on his lower lip. Lee stares at him until his soft mouth opens. 

“Ah,” Gaara says. “Three months ago you were on a mission to Suna. We can say it happened then.”

“We hardly saw each other,” Lee protests. “We only had half an hour to grab tea on the last day.”

“They won’t know that.”

“My teammates will.”

Gaara thinks this over for a moment, his light eyes searching Lee’s face.

“The person we really need to fool,” Gaara says at length, “is Kiba. It’s fine if your teammates are in on it.”

“This ‘secret’ is getting kind of unwieldy,” Lee replies, but Gaara has already turned his attention back to the paper. 

“Next is: ‘How did you two fall in love?’”

Lee gulps.

“Love?” he stutters.

“Of course,” Gaara says, without raising his eyes. The scar on his forehead wrinkles. “I wouldn’t waste my time on dating someone I’m not in love with.”

Lee’s heart sinks like a stone.

* * *

Tenten’s afternoon nap is disrupted by hammering on her door. She lurches to fling it open, kunai extended. 

On her doorstep is Lee, seemingly unaware of the weapon centimeters from his throat.

“Tenten, I’m so glad you’re home!” he crows. “I need help picking something to wear for Shino’s party!”

Tenten lowers her kunai, still disgruntled.

“Aren’t you just going to wear your jumpsuit?” she asks. “It’s just Shino, no need for anything fancy.”

“Ah,” Lee freezes. He leans in, lowering his voice to what, for him, passes for a whisper. “I have a date!”

Tenten leans back. Lee smells overwhelmingly of the cologne he always slathers on himself when the Kazekage and crew are in town.

“With who?” she asks, suspiciously.

“Gaara-kun!” Lee squeals, his voice rising to frequencies only dogs can hear.

Tenten cranes her head over her shoulder.

“Neji!” she shouts into the house. “Get out here now! Emergency!”

Neji comes skidding from their bedroom in his boxer shorts, hair undone around his shoulders. Even with a smear of drool on his cheek, he looks so handsome. Tenten sighs, then turns and punches Lee so hard in the shoulder that her hand stings. Damn his impeccable musculature.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!” she yells. “It’s finally happening! I knew you’d win Gaara over.”

Lee flushes, fiddling with the hem of his jounin vest.

“Ahh,” he says, “it’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

Neji stares at Lee a bit blearily.

“He’s lying,” he says, finally. 

Tenten wheels around to look at Neji, then back at Lee. Lee’s face has turned the color of old tomato ketchup.

“Well, it’s not quite a- It’s more complicated than that,” he stutters.

“Lee!” Tenten shrieks at him, dragging him into the house and slamming the door. She flips her kunai back out of her sleeve and points it back at his stomach. “Spill, now.”

Lee looks down at the kunai, then back at Tenten’s face, which she’s sure at this point is absolutely incandescent with rage. He swallows loudly. 

Behind her shoulder, Neji yawns.

* * *

“I want no part in this,” Neji says with finality, once Lee has stammered his way through a poor explanation. There is absolutely no way that he will contribute to this farce, which is sure to be a failure, and frankly lowers the dignity of both the Leaf Village as a whole, and the station of the Kazekage.

“It’s fine, really,” Lee says. “I came here for Tenten’s help anyway. She can help me pick my outfit.”

Neji’s patience snaps like a rubber band pulled taut.

“Out of the question,” he says, cracking his knuckles. “We’re going to make the Kazekage regret ever asking you on anything other than a real date.”

He waves Tenten over. 

“Get me my shears,” he says. “Right now.”

* * *

When Gaara comes to pick Lee up for their ‘date’, he hardly recognizes the man who answers the door. 

Lee is wearing something high-collared, a dark forest green that compliments the undertones of his skin. His pants are tailored to fit, a far cry from the baggy spandex he usually favors. Most astonishingly, his hair is slicked back from his forehead with some kind of pomade. 

Gaara inhales. He smells amazing. 

“Hi Gaara,” Lee says. The tips of his ears are red. “You look nice.”

Gaara looks down at himself, feeling suddenly underdressed. He’s wearing the same traveling coat that he’s worn for the past four days. He looks back at Lee’s face.

“I can see your forehead,” he says. “I’ve never seen it before.”

Lee blushes, cupping the back of his neck.

“Ah, yeah, Tenten made me let her do my hair,” he explains. “It feels a little odd.”

“I like it. You have a nicely shaped skull,” he says, because it’s true. 

“Thanks,” Lee says, reddening further. 

“Are you ready to go?” Gaara asks.

Lee ducks back into his apartment to grab a colorfully wrapped gift. 

“I am now!” he says.

* * *

As they’re walking down the dimming streets of Konoha, Gaara extends his hand.

“Hold my hand,” he commands. 

Lee turns and stares at him.

“What?” he breathes.

“Hold my hand,” Gaara repeats. He wonders if Lee truly has damaged his hearing and simply isn’t yet aware of it. He’ll have to remind him to visit the village audiologist later. “It’s important that we practice, so that it looks natural.”

“Practice … holding hands,” Lee repeats, dumbly.

“Yes,” Gaara holds his hand out more insistently. 

Lee takes it. Even out of his training clothes, his knuckles are still bandaged. But his hands are large, and rough, and strong. Gaara feels his face heat up, just a little bit, and summons a bit of sand armor to cover his face and conceal his blush. He has admitted, only to himself, that his burgeoning attraction to Lee played some not-insignificant role in his willingness to play along with his brother’s cockamamie scheme. 

Walking hand-in-hand with Lee through the forest paths that lead to the Aburame compound, he feels a sense of ease and contentment. If he doesn’t speak, doesn’t think about what he has to do next, he can almost pretend that this is real.

* * *

Lee clears his throat. Gaara’s hand is so small and warm in his. It’s like having everything he ever wanted, even if it’s not quite right.

He looks around the darkened forest path, where massive humming structures filled with beetles loom, rattling. There are no artificial lights outside on the Aburame complex. Something to do with disrupting the beetles’ natural dormancy cycles, if Lee remembers correctly. 

“I got Shino-kun a stuffed insect,” he says, breaking the silence. Shino is hard to shop for; he doesn’t like many things. He likes bugs, obviously, but he has plenty of those - the hissing and chittering around them confirms that - and his teammates, but not much else. 

“He likes bugs,” Gaara says, not quite like a question, staring wide-eyed into the woods around them. 

“Yeah,” Lee says. 

Gaara adjusts his grip in Lee’s hand, squeezing a little tighter, pulling him a little closer. As they draw closer to the main building, the chirping and buzzing gets louder, oppressive. It’s a little unnerving, and Lee is glad to have Gaara’s hand in his for more than one reason. Not that he thinks he couldn’t take on a bunch of bugs, if he had to, but he’s glad not to be alone.

* * *

In contrast to the dark forest, Shino’s cottage is lit up inside and out, cheerful voices spilling out into the night air. Lee hammers firmly on the door. If the rush of voices when the door cracks open is anything to judge by, they’re among the last to arrive.

“Shino-kun!” Lee cries. “Happy birthday!”

Shino dips his chin behind his high collar. His mouth is invisible when he speaks.

“Lee, Kazekage-sama, welcome.” His eyes are obscured behind dark glasses; it’s impossible to know which direction he’s looking in. If his intent is to be unsettling, Gaara feels he’s certainly achieved it. He pauses for just long enough that Lee shifts uncomfortably; he could be looking anywhere - their faces, their joined hands. At length, he steps back, pulling the door wide. “Kiba has been excited for your arrival,” he says.

“Oh!” Lee says, fumbling. “I brought you this!” He holds out the gift, and Shino takes it.

When Shino looks down at the present, Gaara catches a glimpse behind his glasses. His eyes are flat black, with no whites visible at all. When the light from the hallway flickers, the surface of them appears to move, like the shells of so many beetles.

Perhaps it’s for the best that he wears the glasses, after all, Gaara thinks.

* * *

As soon as the two of them enter the main room, all the clamor draws to a halt. Twelve heads pivot to face them, all staring. 

Lee offers a weak wave and a thumbs-up. 

In an instant, their friends descend upon them.

“Holy shit,” Kiba cackles. “I didn’t believe it at first but it’s really true!” 

There’s a barrage of questions, so many voices overlapping that Lee can’t even make out what anyone’s saying.

“This is supposed to be my birthday,” he hears Shino muttering, as he sets Lee’s gift on a table laden with presents, “not some sip-and-see.”

Lee does feel a little bit bad at that, but Ino’s already grabbed him by the sleeve and is dragging them to sit in a circle of kunoichi.

“So, what was your first kiss like?” she says, leaning in intently. 

Lee’s face heats inexorably. 

“I- I- “ he stammers.

“Sensual,” Gaara replies.

“Ino, you can’t just ask people that!” Sakura yells.

Ino leans back, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I believe it,” she says. “The Kazekage has that look about him like he’d be a good kisser, he’s so serious. And even though Lee- “

“Obviously Lee would be an excellent kisser,” Gaara interjects. “He’s diligent and a quick study. Furthermore- “

“Gross!” Sakura shouts, clapping her hands over her ears. “I do _not_ wanna hear about this!”

“I think it’s romantic,” Hinata says quietly, fiddling with her fingers. “Congratulations, you two.”

Lee’s hair is sticking to the back of his neck with sweat. 

“Thanks,” he forces out, as Shino drops his head into his palms.

“Hinata, I can’t believe you’re getting into this, too,” he mumbles.

As Lee opens his mouth to apologize, and perhaps suggest that they instead focus on the birthday boy, whose party this _is_ supposed to be after all, Sai shoulders his way into the circle.

“What we all really want to know,” he says, one arm over Ino’s shoulder and that smiling mask on his face, “is have you two had sex yet?”

“That’s none of your business!” Lee splutters.

At the same time, Gaara says, “Of course.”

Lee reels on him in open-mouthed shock.

Sai nods his head sedately.

“I see. Well, I’ve seen Caterpillar Brows’ penis before, but I’ve never seen Browless’s penis. What is it like?” He leans in, his smile sharp as a knife.

Lee fumbles in shock, babbling nonsense.

“Hmm, small, then?” Sai says, with a tilt of his head. “Disappointing, but not surprising.”

In the background, Shino disappears into his high collar. All that’s left of him is a tuft of hair and a voice muttering, “ _My_ birthday…”

Lee jumps to his feet. 

“Gaara!” he cries impulsively. “Let’s … go to the kitchen! Because I’m thirsty!”

“I’ll bet he’s thirsty,” he hears Shikamaru chuckling as he drags Gaara behind him.

* * *

In the narrow hallway between the living room and the kitchen, Tenten shoulders past Gaara brusquely.

“If you hurt him,” she mutters in Gaara’s ear, “I will kill you.”

Gaara turns to her as Lee marches out of earshot.

“I don’t think you’re capable of besting me in combat,” he says, honestly.

Tenten tilts her head. It becomes clear that the hair ornaments holding her buns in place are actually impeccably sharpened senbon.

“Would you like to find out?” she says, as a kunai slots its way into place between her forefingers.

Gaara would not, so he hurries to follow Lee into the kitchen. 

He isn’t surprised to find Chouji and Naruto already there, Naruto lording over an array of beverages of varying alcoholic content while Chouji systematically plows his way through what appears to be a family-sized bag of potato chips. 

“Gaara!” Naruto shouts, cheeks wrinkling. “Congrats, dude. So you finally worked up the nerve!”

He elbows his way over to where Gaara has taken Lee’s sweating hand again, hip-checking him into the counter.

“Lee, man,” Naruto says, craning across Gaara’s body. “You have no idea how many times I had to listen to this dude bitch about- Ouch!” 

Naruto spins to stare at Gaara accusingly. 

“What the hell was that for?” he crows. 

Gaara withdraws his hand to rest on his gourd and assumes an expression of false innocence. Naruto has no business talking about his personal troubles with Lee right here, and he attempts to make that much clear with a warning glare.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Gaara says, sedately.

Naruto wrinkles his brow at him, but then shrugs and wanders off, muttering something about, “Not very befitting of a Kage to go around pinching people.”

* * *

Just before it’s time for cake, they end up corralled back into the living room. Gaara is chatting idly with Kankuro, which is the most relief Lee has felt all evening. 

Then, Kiba appears, slinging his arm over Kankuro’s shoulder and butting his face into their conversation. 

He grins, his teeth sharp and wild. Kankuro seems to have no objections to being used as a prop for Kiba’s body.

“So,” Kiba interrupts. “Before I pay up... “ He raises an eyebrow at Kankuro meaningfully. If Kankuro colors a bit behind his face paint, Lee is polite enough not to mention it. “I’m going to need to see some proof.”

“Proof?” Lee asks, warily.

“Yeah, see, anyone can walk around a party holding hands and say ‘Oh yeah, this is my boyfriend.’” As if to illustrate his point, he takes Kankuro’s hand and holds it up. Gaara’s forehead wrinkles as if he’s processing some new piece of information. “But that doesn’t mean anything. I think I need to see … a kiss!”

Immediately, a dozen faces all turn to stare at them again. 

Lee gapes. Nothing on Temari’s list had prepared them for this. He looks over at the couch where she’s sitting on Shikamaru’s lap in desperation. She turns her head away, nose in the air.

“Please, no,” Shino whines.

* * *

“Fine,” Gaara says, turning to face Lee. 

Lee’s eyebrows crumple in the middle, but then he steels his face. He lifts his chin and nods, expression serious. 

Gaara reaches up to cup the back of his neck, fingers wending through the damp hair there. 

They kiss sweetly. Lee’s large, warm hands come up to cradle either side of Gaara’s face, protecting his ears from the murmurs and gasps of the crowd around them. Lee’s lips are impossibly gentle. Even if it isn’t real, even if this is all he ever gets, Gaara is glad he had this moment. Lee is exactly as good a kisser as he expected.

Lee makes a soft sound into Gaara’s mouth. Gaara assumes this means he’s doing something right. He presses forward a bit more, and Lee draws away.

When Gaara looks up into Lee’s face, Lee’s eyes are wet. 

“We’re leaving,” Gaara says abruptly. 

From somewhere behind him, there’s the _shink_ of Tenten unsheathing a kunai from her belt. 

Gaara grabs Lee’s hand and drags him out a side door. As the door shutters behind them, he hears Shino’s voice saying, “Now, can we _please_ refocus and open my presents?”

As soon as they’re clear of the house, Gaara flicks his fingers into the hand sign for the Sand Transportation jutsu.

* * *

They collide together back in Lee’s kitchen, Lee’s footing ungainly and sprawling. 

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Gaara snarls. The look in his eyes is inhuman, feral. 

Lee lifts his chin, blinks back tears.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says haughtily.

Gaara grabs his chin and drags his face down to look at him.

“You didn’t want to do this,” he accuses. “Why did you say yes?”

“I did want it!” Lee protests, before his mind catches up to his mouth. “I just wanted- “ His shoulders fall. “- more.”

“And yet you said nothing,” Gaara seethes. “And now I’ve hurt you. How could I have known?”

“How could _you_ have known?” Lee laughs brokenly. “How could _I_ have known? Don’t think I didn’t catch that little comment from Naruto. And how much thought you gave to what kind of kisser I’d be.” Lee gestures at Gaara, his point made.

Gaara shoulders Lee’s hand out of the way and steps ever closer, still wholly ignoring Lee’s personal bubble.

“That’s not relevant,” he says. “I’m angry at you right now.”

“We’re angry at each other!” Lee cries. “Because we’re both … attracted to each other, apparently.” His voice softens. 

Gaara’s mouth drops open a bit, his tongue darts out to lick at his own teeth. 

“This is stupid,” Gaara whispers.

Lee bursts into laughter. Real, solid belly laughs. Never before has he been in such a ridiculous situation, and that includes earlier tonight when Sai had asked him about Gaara’s genitalia.

“I guess it is,” he chuckles, when he’s finally caught his breath. “In that case, Gaara, would you go on a date with me? For real, this time?”

Gaara stares at Lee, his face soft, dark-rimmed eyes wide and searching.

“Yes,” he says softly.

“Wonderful!” Lee shouts, drawing Gaara into an impulsive hug. 

Gaara’s hands steady themselves on Lee’s shoulder. Lee laughs into Gaara’s hair.

“I’m relieved,” Lee breathes. “Technically this means we didn’t lie to our friends.”


End file.
